


No Desert Flower

by bucky_barnes481, SockLing



Series: Desert Flower [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dealing with Emotions, Dorian Wins, Established Relationship, Loving Banter, M/M, Until Cullen Does, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6643057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucky_barnes481/pseuds/bucky_barnes481, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SockLing/pseuds/SockLing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian honestly could not understand the very Fereldan lack of self-preservation.  Was it truly so difficult to take a break from tedious paperwork and strategizing to eat a simple meal?  Then again, when was anything just a "simple" something when Dorian, Scion of House Pavus and the most delectable man in all of existence, was present?</p><p>But Cullen was a man of battle and war; he knew how to adjust to any scenario.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Desert Flower

**Author's Note:**

> This is from an RP I had with my buddy, in which I took all the dialogue from the first... third? Of the entire roleplay and built more of a story around it. I changed the end, however. Just because the rest of it can all be explored in a couple different stories. Either way, read on and I hope you enjoy~
> 
> Also, I have no beta reader or anything so if there are any mistakes with spelling or what not, lemme know!
> 
> EDIT: I have decided to add my buddy as the co-author after talking with her (since she did write Cullen's dialogue and she thought it would be fun) so this fic is now co-authored~

Dorian looked out of his window in his cozy little alcove and gave a huff. If he was a smart one - and who could possibly be even more intelligent than him? - then he would know that a certain blonde Commander was still in his room with that very Fereldan ignorance of self-preservation. He looked down at his own plate of food, barely eaten but still quite warm, and rolled his eyes. He stood from his quite comfortable chair and circled around the library to find another to push next to the little table, then got a hold of some mage apprentice to Fiona and asked them for a favor.

Or, well, he specifically asked them to bring another plate of food up to his spot and they listened for some entirely plausible and not at all unfathomable reason.

Everything he needed taken care, the Tevinter mage sauntered downstairs, waving to Solas as he passed. When the strange elf sighed, Dorian couldn’t help the smirk that stretched his lips as he made his way out the northernmost door for Cullen’s office. His eyes scanned the battlements and realized all of the scouts and watchmen were accounted for, which meant it was much less likely someone else would be in the Commander’s room. Hopefully that would help this all go smoothly.

Instead of knocking on the solid door, Dorian drummed his fingers over the wood, knowing it would give him away. “You know, I will be quite distressed if the dear Commander were to faint because he was too stubborn to eat.” There was quiet for a moment and Dorian considered just rushing in there, but finally heard a response in the form of, “I’m working, Dorian.” Well how rude, to be brushed off without the man even opening the door.

Luckily for one Cullen Rutherford, the man on the other side of his door was Dorian, Scion of House Pavus.

Who opened the door regardless and waltzed right in, seeing the man was indeed hunched over his desk with far too many reports and the like spread across the surface. It all looked far too tedious for Dorian, but that was one of many reasons he was not the Commander here. When said man still had not looked upon the glory of the other presence in this room, Dorian crossed his arms over his chest and decided he did not like being ignored. “Yes, and working can take a break for the necessities of life. I understand this is a very strange concept for you Fereldans, but I cannot be bothered by your entirely asinine lack of self-preservation.”

Cullen stopped writing for a moment to look up at Dorian, a single brow raised. Oh, but he was such a gorgeous man. Dorian was learning most all of his expressions were incredibly unfair. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mother hen? I’ve outgrown my mother, Dorian.”

“You most certainly have **not**! At least you haven’t come close to outgrowing the need for one. Clearly.” For a split second, Dorian was feeling smug. But Cullen continued to give him that look and what he said finally sank in. Dorian pointed an accusatory, almost threatening finger in his direction, hoping it would adequately convey his wrath. “I am no mother hen!”

“And what is the pointing supposed to be?”

Inside, Dorian felt himself deflate. He supposed it was an entirely non-threatening gesture to someone like the Commander. Instead of letting him see the loss of his will, Dorian narrowed his eyes at the blonde man who almost seemed to be smirking at him. Oh distractions. “... you are entirely insufferable.”

“And you love it.”

The Tevinter mage could hear the chuckle in the man’s voice, the sort of sound that came from someone who won. Fine, Dorian would admit defeat for this battle, but his war had not yet been won. Perhaps he should get the good Commander’s guard down a bit? For now, he sighed rather dramatically and followed it with, “It is always so troublesome when my secrets are discovered.” This just earned him a smile, something a touch more affectionate than that smirk from earlier, something that absolutely did not make his stomach twist in interesting ways as Cullen spoke again. “Well, it’s safe with me.”

Dorian snorted softly. “I should certainly hope so. Or I will start wearing long cloaks so you no longer get the distinct pleasure of watching me walk away.” There was silence after that as Cullen stared at him, clearly stunned into silence. The corner of Dorian’s lips tugged up into a smirk when he realized the other man had no idea how to respond, and that was all he needed. “And I see that I’ve won. As part of your surrender, _we_ are going to go eat. Now.”

There was another long silence before Cullen sighed and stood from his seat.

Oh, how fun it was to win~

“All right.” Oh, how the poor Commander did sound so resigned. Dorian kept his smug grin to himself as he opened the door and walked out, his own voice ringing out. “Oh, how I do so love winning~” He looked behind himself to wink at the Commander as he closed the door behind himself, then noticed a certain slowness to Cullen’s movements. “And I will summon fireballs under your feet if you are moving too slow.”

The ex-Templar picked up his pace, looking fondly exasperated. “I can imagine you would. Thanks.”

“You’re quite welcome, Commander.” He let a chuckle slip past his lips as he walked through the door into Solas’ sanctuary, ignoring the elf who gave him a pointed look. Yes, yes, he remembered their agreement. But then he noticed a strange look on Cullen’s face as they started to head up the stairs to the library. “Oh, before you start giving me grief over this not being a dining hall or that Maker forsaken tavern, I will end it now - I don’t care.”

“What are you doing, Dorian?”

Dorian heaved a dramatic sigh, one that was entirely unnecessary, even for him. “Why must everything be plots with you, Commander? I simply have no desire to deal with the drudgery that is listening to war council talks as I eat.” There was barely a split second pause before he could suddenly feel Cullen practically pressed up against his back. If he so much as breathed a little deeper than normal, they would have touched. He could practically feel the rumble that came from Cullen speaking as he said, “I’m starting to think you just want to be alone with me.”

Well, it was certainly true. But Dorian needed to fall back on old tricks before he turned around and begged the Commander to take him right on the stair well. So instead, he let out an incredibly dramatic and overly stressed gasp, giving the Commander a scandalized expression. “Why, Commander, one would start to think you have a head for such stealthy and underhanded plots. What would all your adoring fans say?” Just as Cullen breathed to respond, Dorian decided to add in a jibe. “The dashing Commander in a terrible fur lined outfit turning to such dastardly scheme.”

He took a step away as he felt the Commander start to sag, a sigh escaping his lips. Maybe he had gone too far? He heard a mumble behind him, something to the effect of “Now you’ve insulted my clothing.” It was a truly awful outfit, how was that in any way Dorian’s fault? He decided to leave it alone, but he was sure he heard “Says the man who wears too many buckles” somewhere behind him but chose to ignore it. Instead, he finally reached his little alcove, happy see there was indeed a second plate of food on the table.

At least someone wanted to please him today.

“Now sit and eat Commander. It is quite essential to your not dying.” He knew that when he pushed Cullen into the chair, it was only because the other man allowed him to, but he still felt smug. Mostly because the man had allowed it. But then the Commander sighed. “I know you won’t leave me alone until I eat.”

Dorian took his own seat with a chuckle, letting himself fall into the back of it. “You are absolutely right about that. I will freeze your perfectly delicious bum to that seat if I must.” He heard a strangled snort come from the seat next to him and grinned to himself as he picked up his plate to start eating, his face eventually twisting. “Though I can almost understand the Fereldan refusal to eat. I might have a better chance of surviving if I stopped eating this… tragedy.”

Cullen took up his own plate to start eating, interspersed with his own musings. “You would never do that. You like my… _bum_ too much to even risk hurting it. And you’ll survive.”

“You have become surprisingly astute tonight, Commander. Discovering all my secrets.” He took a few more bites before he had to chase it down with some of the wine he stole from who the hell even knew? “And I’ll have you know this food has forced me to use more of my skin oil than before. Though that could also be the harshness of your wind. So fierce.” But Dorian also had a very keen sense of self-preservation and kept consuming his dinner, until he heard a strange sound from the man next to him. He looked over and noticed a look that did not bode well in his mind.

“And I’ll have you know you’re just like a desert flower, Dorian. You’ll adjust.”

... 

Dorian felt his lower eyelid twitch as the words replayed in his mind. A desert flower? It took several moments, but he finally forced his mouth to work. “Did you just refer to me as a _flower_?”

“This may come as a shock, but I do know more than just battle.”

Dorian scoffed at him. “Yes, yes, you’re intelligent, that is not news, but… did you just… refer to _me_... as a _flower_?” Dorian narrowed his eyes as the Commander seemed to be smiling in some secretive way. He hoped there was a good explanation for this. “Yes, I did. Because you’re acting like one. I’ve seen you covered in Maker knows what and yet you still act like this.” So the Tevinter had some very specific ideas about how he should be treated. There was no reason him sucking it up on travels should ruin his need to be pampered when he returned.

As it was, he merely sniffed in indignation. “I’ll have you know that Dorian Pavus is no flower. If anything, I am an elegant tree.”

“Dorian Pavus is a flower, a beautiful one I might add.”

It was an entirely new feeling, being shocked into silence. Dorian mostly certainly was not gaping at him, no words able to leave his mouth as Cullen just continued to eat, nonchalant. Did the man have no idea what he just spouted. Since he could find no words to respond, Dorian merely huffed and stuffed some food into his mouth, not at all sulking. Who calls another man beautiful anyway? Dorian was _handsome_. He was elegant, refined, gorgeous, sexy. He was **not** beautiful. Finally, he heard the Commander’s voice ring out. “No comments?”

He scoffed. “Such an insult, being called ‘beautiful.’” Well, he was certainly going to spout that to Cullen and even himself. But somewhere under his anger and shock, he was almost enjoying it. He had certainly never been called beautiful before, for all the reasons he was telling himself he hated it. “I am handsome, Commander. Beautiful is what you use for lithe, more effeminate creatures.”

Hardly a breath passed before Cullen pressed on. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, Dorian. Handsome doesn’t cover you. It’s too rough of a word.” Where in the hell was this all coming from? Dorian was finding it difficult to keep up, match his wit with Cullen’s sincerity. How could he possibly keep coming up with responses to genuine feelings? Instead of countering with some sort of smart ass remark, Dorian sighed. “ _Vishante kaffas_ , where is this all coming from?”

“You drug me up here and I can’t compliment you?”

“This goes beyond the normal compliments I receive, Cullen. Commander.” Addressing him as Cullen just made this seem a little too… _real_. But instead of Cullen really going into some explanation, he seemed to be smirking just a touch as he responded. “Does it?”

Dorian was struggling between ripping his perfect hair from his own head or launching across the table to press himself to Cullen, kissing him until neither could breathe. For the time being, he finished eating then heaved a sigh, half-heartedly glaring at the Commander from across the table. “... you are completely insufferable. Because yes it does.”

Now there really was a smirk on the Commander’s lips. “You love it. Admit it.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and huffed. “Fine, I suppose it does provide a certain level of entertainment.” He heard a chuckle as the man finished eating and set his plate aside, taking a moment to look at the Vint. “Thank you for dinner, Dorian.”

Mmm, why even thank Dorian? He certainly wasn’t the one to cook such atrocities. If he had his way, everything would be flavored with spice as opposed to dirt. But instead of ranting about such things to Cullen, the mage merely stood and walked over to take a new seat straddling the Commander’s thighs. He had a few plans on what he could possibly do now, to give the Commander something to really thank him for.

His plans were put to a stop when he saw something soften on Cullen’s face as the man leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It did something strange to Dorian’s chest and he tried to deepen it, turn it into something rough and passionate. The only problem was that every time he tried, Cullen would do something to stop him, until the mage felt hands resting over his cheeks to keep his head in place, unable to do as he pleased. It was driving him insane, feeling the other man’s lips just barely brushing against his own.

It was too… _emotional_.

Right when Dorian was about to start begging, Cullen pulled away with a last kiss to his nose, of all things, and smiled at him. “As I said, thank you for dinner, Dorian. But I have work to finish.” Dorian wanted to reach up and slap that smile off his face, demand they go shed their clothes and use the nearest sturdy surface for some real fun. Cullen had other plans as he stood, holding Dorian so he would not slip off and land on his backside, before depositing him gently onto his seat once more. And the mage absolutely was not pouting as the Commander chuckled and bent down to give Dorian another-

Oh, that was not a gentle kiss.

Again, Dorian was shocked into a stupor, not able to react at first to the hungry kiss he was on the receiving end of. However, just as he parted his lips to respond, arms starting to rise, the Commander pulled away and Dorian definitely did **not** whine at the loss. Cullen grinned at him then started to walk away, down the stairs, calling out “I’ll just come to your room after I’m finished” as he vanished from view.

The mage glared at the stairs, shifting a bit uncomfortably in his chair. “ _Festis bei umo canavarum_.”

**Author's Note:**

> " _Festis bei umo canavarum_ " - You will be the death of me.


End file.
